Shaman
by Clair Shadows
Summary: Blair takes up his position as Shaman to Incacha's old tribe SG1Sentinel crossover.
1. Default Chapter

_An image formed in Blair's mind. A desolate temple surrounded by scorched earth and green jungle. Creatures, half-human, half-golden metallic dogs guarded it. Their eye's glowing red as they further wielded dull metallic staff weapons that emitted pulsing fire, continuing their destruction on the lush green vegetation._

The image flowed forward. Dark skinned men were fighting the half-metallic creatures, and dying. Now dark skinned women and naked children were being tied into lines by the creatures and marched into the jungle. Blair's mind, spirit, soul? Followed their path, watching as children fell and were pulled roughly to their feet. Listening as the women's pleas were ignored. And how attempts at escape were dealt with harshly with weapons that didn't even leave ash to be spread to the winds.

The journey brought them back to the temple, now barely recognizable. Half an acre all around the sacred site was barren burnt earth. Blair felt the anger and fear of the prisoners and was with them as they were marched into the temple. Inside too was changed. The pools Blair had envisioned so many times in his dreams were empty. A stone bowl probably the same Alex had used to mix her 'potion' in lay broken on the floor. Burning torches filled brackets that did not belong in this quiet place and gold and red silks obscured the writings Blair knew were on the walls.

More metallic creatures joined the procession, marching the prisoners into the depths of the temple. Symbols on a complex device were pressed in an order.

A light flared and the image faded. 

Blair awoke with a start and stared at the dim clutter that surrounded his bed. It was just a dream. Images of the slave chains crossed his mind and he shuddered. Too much sci fi T.V. and way too much dwelling on the past, which was strange now that he thought about it cause he hadn't been thinking of the temple of Sentinels, he hadn't thought of it in month's. He'd been too focused on the mysteries in the day-to-day business of becoming a cop to wonder about temples in distant jungles and besides thinking of the past hurt. Not that the present was much better.

Blair sat up and felt the aches of yesterday's track work make themselves known. Two more weeks and he could say goodbye to it all. Well four if you counted the two weeks of testing, but Blair was trying not to look that far ahead. Two more weeks until basic training was complete.  
Blair rubbed his shins gingerly and looked at the clock. 6.36am. Outside he could hear Jim rummaging around doing who knows what. Probably couldn't sleep. Blair knew he was still being harassed by people who didn't believe the painful conference he'd held, but as Jim wasn't talking and Blair wasn't at the station there wasn't much he could do, which might explain why he was dreaming of oppression and violence. The frustration and containment he felt in reality leaking into his dreams. Which didn't make him feel any better but who the hell was he to argue with his conscious?

Blair gave up reasoning and staggered his way into his robe and out of his room, he'd feel better with coffee and a warm shower.

The loft was dim, what little light there was pooling itself around the balcony doors. Jim was a shadow leaning against the kitchen cupboard,

"Couldn't sleep?" Jim asked. Blair shook his head and peered into the dark kitchen trying to determine whether the coffee pot was empty and whether it was worth taking the few extra steps closer to find out for sure. In the background the soft murmur of the morning news muddled with his thinking.  
Jim walked forward no longer a shadow and Blair bemusedly felt himself steered towards the bathroom.

"Go shower." Jim commanded and Blair did.

There was coffee waiting when Blair left the bathroom and Blair poured himself a cup feeling more human as the liquid hit his system.

"You up for a ride?" Jim asked from behind him, Blair jumped coffee spilling over his hand and onto the bench. Putting the cup down he shook out his hand and grabbed a cloth, "Hey, a little warning!" 

"I'll wear a bell," Jim said and grabbed a second cloth to help clean up the mess, "So are you?"

"I'd appreciate it," Blair bit back leaning against the counter to calm himself down, the second part of the question sank in. "So am I what?"

Jim rolled his eyes "Brown and Rafe are working a case down at the docks, but the numbers aren't adding up. Simon asked me to go down and have a quick look around, so are you up to coming along."

"What about the academy?" Blair asked,

Jim poured himself a cup, "we'll be back before 8:30, I'll drop you off, I'll even buy you breakfast." 

Blair grinned "Sure, as long as it's not Wonderburger man."

-----------------------O-----------------------

It was dirty and loud down at the Cascade Turner docks, with men yelling abuse and commands and the stiff grinding and clacking of old machinery and over it all; the thick scent of oil, salt, fish and filth. Blair eyed the old machines warily and tried to breathe shallowly. Jim had told him more of the case on the drive down, how it seemed Ross Werily a new mover and shaker in the criminal world had come into a steady flow of cash, weapons and drugs and how Rafe and Brown suspected it was connected to an old time crook Simon Stoke who'd been seen hanging around the docks. Officially Jim was here on the behalf of his superior to use his superior skills as a detective to determine if the docks were just a smoke screen or if they were the base of operations for the smuggling ring. Unofficially Jim was there to determine well, the same thing only the methods changed.

"So Simon wants you to sniff out the drugs, huh?" Blair asked

Jim gave him a withering look "Just keep an eye out for anyone acting out of character"

"What character man?" Blair grumbled, nether-the-less he looked closer at the workers moving between the crates and ships trying to determine if standing on a crate and glaring at everyone counted as suspicious behavior, "They're big, tough and hairy"

"At least you've got the hairy" Jim cut in sardonically, giving Blair a small side long glance.

"Funny man, funny" Blair said, now looking at four shift workers stacking tuna onto large orange tarps, God there had to be at least a hundred there already and they were still going. Beside him Jim stiffened, stilling and Blair stopped automatically and looked at him, looking for what caught his attention, but Jim's face was blank his mind focused elsewhere,

"Jim?" Blair whispered, but Jim waved his hand at him angrily, shushing him and Blair stayed quiet. Long minutes passed and Blair tried not to fidget, shoving his cold hands in his pockets and watching the worker's closer to the wharf and hoping like hell the idiots manning the cranes didn't drop any crates God it was history repeating all over again. Finally Jim moved, turning and walking quickly back the way they came. Blair hurried after him, through the stacks and small mini markets that seemed to pop up in the quieter corners

"What'd you hear?" he asked, Jim slowed allowing Blair to come abreast with him,

"We need to head back to the station, I can drop you off on the way." Jim said.

"Jim man, seriously what did you hear?" Blair asked again, putting his hand on Jim's arm to gain his attention. Jim shook his head and Blair removed his arm feeling unaccountably rebuffed.

They hit the sidewalk the noise and bustle shifting to the crowded street noise of Cascade and scents of tar and pollution mixed with the fading wharf scents. Blair saw the truck and gratefully made his way to the passenger side wanting to be away from it all, inside Blair put his belt on and studiously avoided Jim's gaze as Jim did the same and started the truck. It wasn't until they'd pulled away and were heading east towards the station that Jim broke the silence

"There's a meet being organized for the 3rd at the Richard Hotel. Stoke's isn't our man, but the docks are being used to smuggle guns; the drugs are apparently from a local supplier. The diner on Sampson okay with you?"

Blair looked over at Jim, "Thanks man," he said.


	2. Chapter 2

------------------------------O--------------------------------

The diner on Sampson was just starting to bustle with early morning commuters, it's Elvis chic alcoves and tables settling with a comfortable background blur about work and people and longing for the weekend, with only the occasional laugh or exclamation making itself heard. Jim and Blair sat down in one of the empty alcoves with a black record and Elvis's face shining down onto the red seats and tabletop. The waitress came over and Blair ordered coffee and pancakes and Jim coffee and eggs sunny side up with bacon. Blair made the required grimace as the waitress moved away, but his heart wasn't in it.

"Sounds like it's going to be a big operation and the third that's only two days away. That's not a lot of time for Simon to prepare a task force." Blair said.

"We'll manage," Jim, replied unconcerned and Blair bit his lip.

"That's not a lot of time for _you_ to prepared either,"

"Sandburg, if you're worried because you're not going to by my side. I don't need a keeper. I've been doing this job a long time before you turned up. Simon too. Trust him if you don't trust me." Jim's voice was quiet, his gaze direct and ouch way to make this all about him Blair being wrong. Blair dropped his gaze,

"I trust you," Blair said and his hands picked up the sugar canister needing something to hold, "but that doesn't stop me from worrying," and now his gaze met Jim's fiercely, "It's gun smuggling, not issuing some boozo a parking ticket."

"We'll manage," Jim repeated firmly and Blair had to be content with that.

Their meals arrived and were eaten in edgy silence, Jim not interested in answering and Blair not interested in asking. They paid the cheque, the light pancakes lying heavy in Blair's stomach and Blair pushed himself up from the table suddenly eager to be training; exercise a sure fire way to push his thoughts away. The blood rushed to his head and Blair had a moment of vertigo before darkness took claim.

_He was in the temple again facing the strange device and this time Blair recognised the symbols forming as the device spun. Orion, Scorpio, Capricorn, Aquarius, Pisces, Cetus and the Lynx and then the device was activating bursting with a rush of water than spun back into the device and formed a rippling mirror and then more of the half-human, half-golden metallic dogs were stepping through. _

_The metal echoed strangely on the stone floors and Blair followed them as they marched up from the depths of the temple. The soldiers marched into the room with the pools now no longer empty as Blair had seen them they were filled with a boiling seething mass that seemed to move of it's own violation and Blair couldn't contain the horror that welled up. _

_In the centre a lady with dark hair cut in the Egyptian style and a crown with the lynx engraved in jewels sat naked to her waist and the soldiers in neat lines bowed before her. Her eyes flashed a brilliant white and the words she said were foreign, but the soldiers banged there left arm against their chests once in salute and stood as one before continuing their march outside. _

_Blair's eyes were drawn to the far corner where pressed against the red silks three men and a women dressed in the same green uniform knelt bound and surrounded by half men half metallic dog soldiers. Their faces were filled with hatred and loathing as they stared at the lady in the pool and then the dark skinned one with a tattoo of Apophis flickering in the candlelight turned and met his eyes, he broke his bounds and stood, but the soldiers surrounding them didn't seem to notice._

"_This has not yet happened. Contact General Hammond of Texas, Stargate Command Cheyenne Mountain Colorado. Now!" He commanded and Blair blinked and the dark man with his tattoo was once more bound and staring with loathing at the pools with their lone occupant._

_The flare of weapons being armed startled him and the image faded._


	3. Chapter 3

Blair feels consciousness return in the discomfort of sheets tucked too tight and the cloying scent of hospital grade antiseptic.

Jim helps him sit up before he even realises he's there and Blair's grateful for the help his head doesn't ache precisely, but Blair doesn't want to jostle it around either.

"What happened?" Blair asks.

Jim eases back into his chair, he looks tired. "You collapsed; you've been out for 40 minutes. The doctors have taken blood,"

Jim gestures to the cannula taped to Blair's arm and Blair belatedly feels the ache and wishes he hadn't noticed.

"They're waiting on the test results." Jim finishes.

40 minutes. Christ.

"I feel fine," Blair ventures, which isn't completely a lie.

Blair remembers his dream. The strange urgency of it.

"I had a weird dream." Blair tells Jim trying to remember the details.

Jim looks at him sharply and sits forward in the ugly bucket posing itself as a chair. "Was it a blue jungle?"

"Oh come on man. Visions are your thing." Blair returns irritated.

"It was just a dream. Soldiers and temples and some prisoner with a gold tattoo on his head telling me to contact some General from Texas. Does Texas even have Generals? I mean come on." Blair blew out his breath and kicked at the blanket loosening it slightly. He hated hospitals.

"America has Generals." Jim said rolling his eyes at Blair's theatrics.

"Well General Hammond of Texas can join the Colonel of Kentucky for all I care. When are they letting me out?" Blair asked.

"When the test results come back" Jim replied before looking at his watch.

"I've got to head into the Station. If they release you early catch a taxi home, otherwise I'll pick you up. Don't hassle the nurses." Jim said and stood up from the butt ugly orange bucket chair he'd been sitting on.

Blair rolled his eyes and said "Yes, Mom" and Jim obnoxiously rubbed his head and walked out the door while Blair was still trying to get it out of his eyes.

Blair huffed a breath once he was alone. He hated hospitals.

The bus dropped him off two blocks from home and Blair didn't rush the walk. The weather was clear and still just a little bit chilly. Four hours at the hospital and they couldn't tell him anything he didn't already know. It was a lot of fuss for nothing. It's not like Jim wouldn't know if anything was seriously wrong with him. Blair entered the apartment building and took the stairs without even having to look at the out-of-order sign on the elevator.

The stairs jutted upwards a flickering light causing the black shadows to dance oddly on the white walls. Blair made it to the second floor platform before he even realised he was falling.

The chained dark skinned men and woman of the jungle were kneeling in ragged lines in front of the temple. The entrance way had been swept clear, its worn majesty now a past tense, gaudy red curtains now obscured the entrance and a platform had been erected at the top of the stairs and draped in gold cloth.

The woman from the pools lay naked upon the platform and four young men kneeled at her side their eyes glazed and staring sightlessly out into the crowd. Their dark skin shone in the bright sunlight and tattoo's marred their foreheads. The metallic half human half dog soldiers stood armed behind the platform and in a semi circle behind the crowd.

One by one the men entered her and made their devotion, but it was only skin deep their eyes stayed just as listless while pleasing her as they had waiting. Blair looked out into the crowd and saw silent tears even as they were forced to cheer.

Blair opened his eyes and shut them instantly against the bright flickering light right above his head and the curious eyes of two on-lookers. His whole body was complaining, but his right knee must have taken the brunt of the fall.

"Help me up would you?" Blair asked stretching out his hand blindly. Strong hands grabbed it and pulled.

Blair made it to his feet, but putting pressure on his right foot hurt like a son of a bitch. Blair lent against the wall and pretended it wasn't helping him keep upright and looked at his rescuers. They were wearing identical black suits and shined shoes. The only things missing were the Men in Black sunglasses. Fuck.

"Blair Sandburg, we have a job offer for you"

Blair tried his most disarming smile, "I hate to commute, the early mornings, the late evenings. You know how it is."

"We're not offering you a choice."

Blair had an idea it would be like that.

The men grabbed hold of him on either side and gave Blair the choice of assisted walking or being carried. Blair hobbled.

"You know I'm really not in any condition to be working right now. I've got a medical certificate in my right pocket it you want to check. I've been at the hospital all day. They think it might be catching." The men didn't even grunt.

"Well no, but me collapsing. Third time today. Doctor's think it might be epilepsy the flickering light. I have a prescription upstairs. You really should let me grab it. You have drug stores in Nevada don't you? There are shops, cinemas, places to eat? What's it like there? I'm digressing. You can tell me when I'm rambling. Is that your car?"

A third man identically dressed exited the car Blair had pointed to with his head and opened the back door. The two men shoved him in headfirst. Blair kicked out and only managed to slam the closing door, which hurt like hell.

The windows were blacked out and there was a solid partition between the front and the back. Blair sheltered his knee in the cup of his hands and rocked.


End file.
